Of Love and Lycans

Chapter 6

     It was nearly one-thirty in the morning when Nevaeh woke with a blaring mind-link from Ofa declaring she was headed to the car. Bolting upright into a sitting position, Nevaeh’s tangled mane that had once been fastened up in a top-knot, now hung down the sides of her head as she cupped her face. She wasn’t sure if it had been her cousin’s wake-up call who had unwittingly caused the migraine that now pounded across her brain like a garish drumline or the copious amounts of alcohol she consumed, but the relentless punitive drill insisted she didn’t move a muscle for at least another minute.

    Maybe two minutes.

    She exhaled slowly, trying to ride out the headache as she responded to Ofa that she would be there soon.

    Wait.

    She didn’t drink a lot. It was just that one drink. She shouldn’t be hung over on just one drink!

    Wait.

    Where was she and why was this room deadly quiet. No, not quiet. There was a noise. A gentle snoring of someone close-by. Snoring?

    Wait! s**t!

    Flipping the curtain of long hair out of the way, her eyes jumped around the surroundings without moving her head. Where the hell? Whose room was this? Feeling the silky sheets on top and under her, and nothing else, her eyes widened as she looked down, but didn’t go into full freak-out mode until she lifted the sheet and found herself completely naked.

    Oh f**k!

    Nevaeh swallowed as her eyes rested at the end of a covered lump next to her. Swallowing again as she mustered courage,  she continued following the notable form of her bed companion, further discovering a bare, mouthwatering specimen of a man’s torso; eyes trailing even more until finally resting on his face. Adorable, delicious, fast-asleep, peaceful face.

    Birthday boy!

    Double f**k!

    Gripping the sides of her head, Nevaeh tried to keep the panic stifled within her churning stomach, but a rogue whimper escaped her mouth. Within the Chernobyl of a personal meltdown, she scoured her memory for what exactly happened within the last hour, and what the hell had been so crazy-exhausting that they ended up passing out? Naked and passed out! And she was pretty sure something happened between the naked and the passed out part because her body ached in places that it hadn’t ached before. Her face blossomed a perfect red.

    Nevaeh whimpered once more as that reality battered her heart into a thousand pieces. Her virginity was lost to a stranger in an alcohol-induced stupor and not with her Goddess-given mate. She ogled over the very yummy stranger again, rationalizing that this wasn’t so bad. It was, after all, with a hot guy and not some weirdo. Not so bad, right?

    Who is to say a hot guy can't be a weirdo? Her rational brain chastised. This was so wrong! She shouldn’t have let it go this far! Even with her odd wolfie-issues, she still hoped there would be some guy out there waiting for her, too. s**t. Uncle Sawyer is going to flip.

    O-M-G! Forget about Uncle Sawyer. DADDY is going to flip!

    They couldn't find out! They didn't need to know a damn thing. She was eighteen now and could make her own decisions about...   s**t. Who was she kidding? They would find out. Some how her father and uncle always found out about everything. 

    Maybe she could just explain it was the liquor? People blamed that all the time, right? And that traitorous strawberry drink wasn’t normal, right? Was I roofied? Her mind fled to the red-headed stranger—was she in on it? After all, she had suggested that she drink it. Did the Lycans put her up to it as some sort of prank? Then again, the way that gold-glittered liquid swirled in the bottle... Was I ‘magically’ roofied?

    But she knew she couldn’t just blame the liquor either. Who wouldn't lust over this guy?

    Nevaeh’s eyes languidly slid over to the stranger’s hand resting at the edge of the sheet just above his bare navel. Her chest erupted in the mere thought of what those hands had done to her, but more so, the little shocks of electricity they omitted when they touched her skin.  How could he do that? Was he… her mate?

    What was his name? Aron! Yes, that’s what he said!  Mmmm. Aron. 

    Nevaeh had always been told that she’d find her wolf mate by using her senses. Her eyes would know him, her heart would recognize him, a shared touch would ignite the bond and his scent would draw her in. When he touched her, did she feel something or was it just the liquor?

    Shaking, her fingers breached the space between them, slowly sliding her hand over the bulge of his bicep. Immediately, a sparking sensation jumped to life like static electricity, tingling under her fingers in a warming whir. While she gasped, Aron hummed an approval and faintly stirred, but did not wake. Though, his once relaxed lips now lifted slightly into a half-smile.

    He felt them too. 

    Undeniably, there were sparks. But was he even a wolf? Was he a human? She had heard of wolves taking human mates before, and that through a process, their mate could be changed into a werewolf if they chose to be one. She could see the Moon Goddess choosing that path for her since she wasn’t quite a normal werewolf.  Would Aron want to do that?

    Nevaeh drew in a deep breath to smell him. His scent was intoxicating, delicious, a blend of sandalwood and musk. But there was something else weaved into his scent, and her eyes widened as she recognized it.

    No! What the hell?

    She inhaled again, only to reconfirm what she had come to realize. Lycan! How is that even real? Her mate was a Lycan? Maybe that hexed roofied drink had messed with her and she was still buzzing with the after-effects? There was no way she was mated to a Lycan! They didn’t even exist in her world before tonight. Something had to be wrong.

    Yep! I am definitely bewitched! f*****g red-head. I’m going to kill that b***h!

    Fear chased her to the furthest edge of the bed away from Aron. Shuffling to the floor with as much stealth as possible, she continued her furtive escape by tip-toeing around. Finding her dress in a heap on the floor, Nevaeh quickly slid it back over her body as she frantically scanned the surrounding area for her panties. A blush scorched her cheeks again when she spotted them in a torn heap near the bed.  s**t!

    A slight stir from the bed had her grabbing her high-heels and bolting for the door without putting her shoes on. She watched him closely as she slithered out of the room, making sure he was still asleep. Even so, before she closed the bedroom door completely, through the sliver of a peep-hole that remained, Nevaeh watched him for a long moment, something stirring deep inside, beseeching that she shouldn’t be leaving him. 

    That feeling was telling her to stay.

    The longing didn’t stop either as she raced through the hall, fled down the marble stairs, pushed her way through the party guests, and fled out the front door. It didn’t stop as she hurried barefoot on the concrete roadway, high-heels clicking in one hand, as she hustled to the rendezvous point. NEvrah tried to smooth out her wild I just had s*x hair, tried to smooth her I was just laying on a stranger's floor wrinkled dress before she rounded the corner to the awaiting SUV and a very perturbed looking Ofa.

    Ofa was leaning against the car next to the bodyguard Ben, her arms folded, regarding Nevaeh with a sour expression. “And you told me not to be late? Are you kidding? It’s like one-forty-five. I could have stayed in there for another—” Her words caught as her attention snapped over Nevaeh’s s*x-smacked appearance, finally resting on her shoes.

    “No! Not one! Not one question! Nope!” Nevaeh whimpered nervously as she dropped her Louboutins to the ground and began to shove her feet into them. 

    Before Ofa could release the plethora of words that were no doubt building within her throat, Levi darted around the corner, joining them as he was shoving his shirt into his pants. Ofa’s mouth dropped open even more as her accusatory finger shot from Nevaeh over to him.

    “Are you two kidding me?” she finally erupted. “You told me not to get into some stranger’s bed, and look at you! Look at you both!” Ofa growled, stomping her heel onto the sidewalk. “Am I the only one who played by the rules and didn’t get a hook-up, tonight?” Her banshee screech serrated their ears.

    Waking up at 6am was a beast that couldn’t be tamed with only one cup of coffee. Though Nevaeh’s desperate inner-cries begged for another three hours of rest and maybe a good bubble bath, she was used to the lack of sleep. Her job usually required her to burn the midnight oil, and a good power nap would do the trick to rejuvenate her enough for the day. Yet, she couldn’t even pull off a nap when they got back to the family’s Claremont estate at nearly three o’clock this morning. Her thoughts had been drowned in everything that was Aron as her memory of what had happened between them eased back into her mind. Not even a quick scalding shower could rinse away the impression of his hands, his lips, his body that seemed to have devoured every part of her.

    Cradling her head, elbows stabbing into the dining room table as she corralled a steaming cup of coffee, Nevaeh took long breaths, trying to wheedle her mind away from the one-night stand that she promised herself she would never let happen.

    “You look chipper. Not get any sleep?” Ofa plopped beside her. A servant ushered in quickly after her cousin, placing an empty cup in front of her before filling it with coffee from a shiny steel kettle. Ofa helped herself to the cream and sugar on the table in front of them. “Not that you deserve any sleep. Continued torture is an equitable punishment for breaking our workplace rules of,” she ribbed, “no nookie while working a case.”

    “Whatever, Ofa.” Nevaeh growled before sipping her very black coffee. “You’re just butt-hurt because you didn’t get any.”

    “And there’s that, yes.” She then nudged Nevaeh with her elbow. “But all is forgiven if you give me the juicy details. And I mean ALL the details.”

    “Details about what?” Nevaeh nearly spit her drink out at the sound of her father’s voice. The Alpha King strode into the room while settling a blue tie within the inner vest of his black business suit. Surprisingly, his hands were free of a cell phone which was commonly affixed to his ear. This was what she saw whenever she thought of her father, this is what she grew up seeing. Though, her mother claims there was a time, before he was elected King of the Alphas, her father would only wear casual clothes or gym wear in his younger days.

    Wide eyes darted to Ofa, silencing her with a look. “Oh, nothing really. Just talking about the assignment last night, Daddy. That’s all.”  Ok, that wasn’t too much of a lie, right? Though, Ofa was shot with another dirty look when she snorted. 

    “Everything go well? We get what we needed?” Her father asked as he ran a hand over the side of his cinnamon-red hair. She had wished she had inherited that from him; her twin brothers and older sister were blessed with the sun-kissed locks, while she had more of her mother’s rich brown color. At least she had a bit of his amber colored eyes, though hers were more of a warm brown. When she wolfed-out, as much as her body would allow, they shifted a little more burnt-orange.

    “Yes, the contact, Gamma Rhys, was very helpful. He supplied us with a good translation of what the script said and a location of where we can find something more on the prophecy. I’ll fill you in on our way to the meeting.” Nevaeh nearly choked as her mind shuffled to earlier this morning when she had stormed out of the party. She only had her high-heels in hand and that’s it. She had left her clutch bag there! In his house! Maybe even in his bedroom! Her cellphone and the paper with the address Gamma Rhys had given her was tucked inside the Lycan’s house! s**t.

    Ok, don’t panic. We can work through this. Just a slight hiccup!

    Nevaeh’s mind already buzzed with the obvious clean-up mission. They would need to break into the Lycan’s mansion and extract her clutch. That would take at least a few days scouting out the residence to track his security boot detail and figure out how to disarm his security systems. Of course, they would also need to study more about what a Lycan was and, more importantly, on how Lycans fought if they had to face-off with one of them. Ugh. All that would take time away from their initial mission, which was to collect Intel on Tate’s prophecy. s**t. This f**k-up was all on her. She should have been more careful.

    Damn you, Aron and your strawberry hook-up sauce!

    Her father broke her away from her thoughts. “Speaking of which, you ladies ready to head out? I already sent Levi to the car. We need to get on our way to London about now if we’re going to be on time for our meeting, considering the time it takes to get there and traffic.” Nevaeh absently nodded and strode over to her awaiting father as she mentally persecuted herself for, once again, being so stupid.  “You ok, angel?” He asked as he held out his arm for her to take.

    NO! Absolutely not fine! “Fine, Daddy,” she smiled, which seemed convincing enough for him, patting her hand after she had looped it in the crook of his elbow as they exited the dining room. 

    Coming to England was two-fold. For one, it was personal. They needed to gather Intel to help Nevaeh's brother. Second, it was business. Their family’s company, Arkadían International, was doing exceptionally well under her father’s tenure, having expanded world-wide. It still specialized in safety and security solutions, like cyber and personal protections, much of what were the grass-roots Arkadían programs.  Nicolet National Technology was interested in merging one of their businesses with Arkadían International in hopes of improving their company’s base on the European front. The contracts were in the conference and drafting stage. Whether the Nicolet’s or the Alpha King came to an agreement, that question would be answered within a matter of weeks depending on how negotiations went.

    Nevaeh would be attending negotiations because, one day, she would be filling her father’s shoes and be in charge of the company with Ofa and Levi at her side as senior partners. Logically, the eldest son would be where she currently stood, but it didn’t work out that way. With she being the fifth child in the Rawlins brood, there were at least four other siblings who could have rightfully been the next CEO of Arkadían International. Yet, with her older brother Tate mixed up with his saving the world problems, the twins, Mateo and Zeke, becoming the leading Alphas over the Lava Moon Pack back in Washington, and then her sister Yessica mated to Ofa’s brother, Beta Kenzo, the next in line to manage the family business was her. Besides, her father noticed how dedicated she was to everything Arkadían, so it seemed the logical fit.

    Nicolet National Technology was nested atop a huge skyscraper in London’s business district dubbed Nicolet Tower. Fitted well amongst the other goliath buildings; its mass of glass and steel loomed in the sky as a beacon of wealth and prosperity.

    Parking in the underground garage, the Alpha King took lead amidst his security detail as he directed Nevaeh and her cousins into the building. The elevator took them up to the main entrance level where they met a stout, bright-eyed older woman named Clarice at reception. Short, peppered grey and black curls bobbed on her head, becoming animated while she spoke.  Nevaeh strung the security pass’ lanyard around her neck that Clarice had provided each of them before directing the entourage to the elevators and up to the forty-second floor where Mr. Nicolet awaited them.  

    While they filtered into the elevator, one of her father’s five bodyguards leaned forward and started it with the swipe of one of the badges. Nevaeh smiled as she recognized him even though he was faced away. As the box jerked into its upward journey, she leaned over and whispered. “Benny. I thought you were tired of us? Ready for round two, today?”  She heard Ofa and Levi chuckle beside her.

    “Always ready,” Ben smirked, clasping his hands in front of him. “Wouldn’t miss it, Princess.”

    The receptionist on the forty-second floor wasn’t as friendly as Clarice. Frigid b***h would be too kind of a nickname, but it would have to do. The golden tag affixed on her upper breast sported the name Rachel, and honestly, that name said more than enough. She never met a Rachel that she ever liked. Designer coral suit, black hair pulled into a tight high ponytail, high heels with a color that matched her lipstick just screamed hooker… yeah, she wasn’t going to like this Rachel either. Aside from her appearance, her stoic visage just wrapped up her whole concept of corporate asshole perfectly.  Maybe she could convince Rachel to swap places with Clarice while they were in England, since most of their time would be on this floor?

    With morbid fascination, Nevaeh watched Rachel’s hair whip behind her like a scorpion’s tail as she escorted them to the conference room. Truly, she wondered if it were a sentient creature with the way it thrashed around. Or maybe, it was just struggling to free itself from its beast host?

    “Right in here,” Oh wow! Her voice was even nasally. The girl shouldn’t talk as much as she could help it. Nevaeh figured Ofa had equally cringed at the receptionist when she felt her cousin’s elbow nudge her.

    Thierry Nicolet, a rightful silver fox, who sat at the end of a long conference table next to a woman that he introduced later as his personal assistant, Heidi, stood as they entered the room and met her father half-way with a firm handshake.

    “I’ve paged my sons to join us. They’ll be here soon.”  His hand flared out over the expansive obsidian table, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

    As Nevaeh, Ofa and Levi rounded the table to choose their seats, the glass opaque doors opened once again, catching her attention as she pulled out a chair. The smile she had shot in that direction had melted into something akin to shock. She wasn't sure though, she didn't have a mirror to verify. What she was certain of though was the rush of heated goosebumps that pocked her skin at lightspeed levels; Levi sucked in a quick breath at her left.

    “Ah, here are my sons, Aron and Sébastien.” As they strode into the room, their initial strong, strutting steps faltered to a crawling amble as a staring contest ignited between them with Nevaeh and her cousins.

    Aron immediately locked his stark green eyes with Nevaeh, and no matter how hard she pinched herself, she couldn’t look away. 

        s**t.